Tag Archives: The Path

MYTHTERY OH MYTHTERY

lee_broom

“Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others.Unfold your own myth.” ~ Rumi

MYTHTERY OH MYTHTERY
BY Lee Broom

Does it matter that I got it right?

Must Eleven rhyme with Heaven?

Why not Seven?

Isn’t it enough that I experienced Love?

Must I care……

That I err?

Or whether?

Or never?

Who is to judge?

When will it stop?

Perhaps if I lock……..

The door.

(I shall permit only speechless animals in my life.)

(I shall nod my head and tap my toes to the changeless rhythm of the many Faces of Fear and then I’ll be able to continue with my studies.)

Will I still be able to experience Love?

I wonder what Rumi would say,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

(What is so Mythterious, Lee.)

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The Beggar and the Businessman

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He appears from the darkness in silence; He may have been there for hours.
Like the minute hand on my Omega, I failed to notice him at first.

“Hello”.

I speak; he glares.

“Hello”
The tattered apparition holds his gaze.

“May I pass please?” I attempt to move around him. “May I pass?”

He remains silent. His eyes hold mine. What are they telling me? He’s wearing a badly soiled, well-tailored, senatorially pinstriped suit, crafted apparently for a taller man in a different time, most certainly a better defined neighborhood. His attire assumes a sadness; a life of poverty? Perhaps a recently downgraded lifestyle forced upon him by difficult times?

I step to my right – he steps to his left.

“Please” I implore, “My lunch hour is over. I need to get back to my desk.” neither a minute flick of lash nor hint of furrowed brow.

I breathe deeply and attempt to relax the imagined lines in my forehead. He remains implacable; an immovable stoic with an unknown plan. What does he have on his mind. His left hand is hidden in the left trouser pocket where gentlemen account for their coins. Is he holding a weapon? A switch-blade?
I move to the left – he to the right.

“Are you hungry? There is a warm dinner roll in my doggie bag. I had one of these for lunch; delicious. I think you’ll enjoy it.” I raised the offering; no response.

I deke to the right and quickly left. Had I been wearing a weathered, fifty year-old, hand tailored, poorly fitting suit I might have thought for a moment that I was dancing at a street corner, practicing moves before a mirror.

Mulling momentarily: “How much to cross the street?”

“Fifty Cents”: I offer a dollar; his left hand withdraws from the left trouser pocket and places two quarters into my open palm.
The disheveled entrepreneur steps to his left.
The light turns green.

(Most who have read this describe when requested to do so, the businessman as the man with the expensive watch. In fact, the business man is the fellow in the tattered suit, the beggar being the one who asks permission to cross the city street.)

THINK ABOUT IT

STUBBORN DONKEY

What is The Greatest Power known to man?

Are their words enough to describe It?

What do we call this Power?

Who possesses this Power?

What possesses this Power?

Where did this Power come from?

When will this Power cease to exist?

Does this Power have Intelligence?

If this power has Intelligence, what does it know?

How much does it know?

How old is it?

What does it do?

When does it do it?

Is this Power dependent on Time?

Does Time exist?

If time exists when did Time begin?

When will Time end?

Is it possible that The Beginning and the End are the same thing?

Was Life created?

If so, Who or What created it?

How was it done?

If Life was created or if Life evolved, when will that task be completed?

Are there enough words in any language to answer even one of these questions?

Will we ever know the answer to these questions?

What motivates us to ask these questions?

What compels us to attempt to answer these questions?

If it were possible to answer all imaginable questions and if all were known would life go on?

Can it teach me how to tie a Windsor Knot?

Wouldn’t it be true that by that by that time the personal pronoun, “WE” found in all these questions would then be the possessor of all Love and all Knowledge?

What is the relationship between this Power and the world as WE know it?

Who has answers to these questions?

Where is the evidence?

Can there really be enough words in any language to put into a book or a word processor to answer any one of these questions?

Okay now, back to the first question……. If one supposed that the answer to this question and the second, ,,,,and the third is Love, then the rest should be easy, right?

A SOLUTION FOR FINDING LOST STUFF

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When you pray, whaddaya pray for?

Me? I’m an atheist.

Cool. So whaddaya pray for?

I told you; I’m an atheist.

Okay by me. So, whadaya pray for?

I give up. What do YOU pray for?

I ask for help in locating stuff that I’ve mislaid.

Really? Like what, for instance?

My cell phone for one thing. I lose it frequently.

Yeah? What else?

I lose my glasses a lot.

Anything else?

Umhmm; I pray for mislaid qualities like courage, honesty, acceptance; that sorta thing.

You do, huh? Who do you pray to? What do you call this God of yours?

Father.

Suit yourself. I’m still an atheist.

Really? Why?

Why? Because there is no evidence of A God anywhere.

Would you like me to pray for some evidence for you?

Do what you like.

I just did.

You just now prayed for evidence for me? What did this God of yours say.

He asked me to invite you to call anytime. He said He’s not going anywhere.

Father, huh?

Father.

 

IT’S NOT REALLY DANCING

lee_broom

It’s not really dancing.

It’s the joy  we share.

It is deep within us, it is always there.

Some call it Love. It is April. It’s Home.

The Gift of Life; we know where it’s from.

 

We clap. We hum; will it disappear?

Perhaps we lack focus. What now do we hear?

The Sound of Silence?

Are we lonely now?

Yes, for the moment.

The Stillness of Tao.

 

Harken the rhythm. We’re not apart.

We hum. Yes we do, to the beat of our heart.

We hum with our pulse. Really? We hum.

And then…..

We rise up and dance.

 

But it isn’t really dancing… not really… is it?

 

MYTHTERY OH MYTHTERY

lee_broom

Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others.Unfold your own myth.” ~ Rumi

MYTHTERY OH MYTHTERY
BY Lee Broom

Does it matter that I got it right?

Must Eleven rhyme with Heaven?

Why not Seven?

Isn’t it enough that I experienced Love?

Must I care……

That I err?

Or whether?

Or never?

Who is to judge?

When will it stop?

Perhaps if I lock……..

The door.

(I shall permit only speechless animals in my life.)

(I shall nod my head and tap my toes to the changeless rhythm of the many Faces of Fear and then I’ll be able to continue with my studies.)

Will I still be able to experience Love?

I wonder what Rumi would say,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

(What is so Mythterious, Lee.)